TCD Traveler: Edible Ann Arbor

Liberty Street in Ann Arbor Michigan. All photos by the author.

I roll into Ann Arbor and my first stop is one of those greasy-grill institutions that everyone who’s spent time here knows about and says “you just gotta.” The line at the counter, in what used to be a little corner market, is already long and the instructions for ordering, I’m told, are very specific. Get those instructions wrong, and you will rankle the help. Whatever you do, don’t tell them what cheese you want on your burger until they ask. That’s one of the last steps; why would you rattle that off right at the beginning and confuse the situation?

Insane in the Blimp James

Krazy Jim's Blimpy Burger

Krazy Jim’s Blimpy Burgers come in 1/10-pound increments of beef ground in-house, and you can order a single, double, on up to a quint – a half pound. Anything destined for the deep fryer – fries, mushrooms, veggies – is ordered first as you slide your cafeteria tray along the counter from the drink coolers in back. One step more, then order the meat amount at the grill, choose the bread for the bun, wait for the cheese request. Dictate the toppings at the next step (God help you if you didn’t order bacon at the grill step), and have your wallet ready. Screw this up and get a dirty look, or worse. Don’t worry, it’s all in good fun. I think. Be sure you brought cash.

It’s a delicious burger at a decent price with a funny shtick, and so you can believe this is a big hit with the college students.

 Fertile Ground

I’ve always been a fan of university towns. I love the youthful energy of those living in the post-teen purgatory of higher education, and the adults who somehow managed to carry embers of that spirit with them after tossing up the mortar board. There’s little of the hassle and hustle of big city life, and yet none of the doldrums that a small town can summon up on any given day. There’s always something going on. Always a new place to try that opened in that place where So-and-So’s used to be.

Belly full, I look over my list of stops. Next up: Frita Batidos for a killer milkshake and a Cuban-influenced menu described as “whimsical.” I figure out right quick that my time in Ann Arbor was going to be primarily about food and drink.

What makes Ann Arbor a superb escape is its variety of decidedly local experiences. In a world being overrun by chains and the same Sysco offerings as someplace four hours flying from wherever you are, Ann Arbor has a personality. It’s like you get to borrow someone else’s hip friend to hang out with for the weekend. Go to a Michigan football game and meet up for beers at Ashley’s, featuring 50 taps, or make reservations at Grange for about as serious a farm-to-table dining experience as you can get.

The heart is where the heart should be, right downtown, and Ann Arbor’s got a big one. Rather than a single Midwestern Main Street, it is a fine hash tag of avenues lined with shops and restaurants nestled up against a major university campus. Everything is walking distance, it seems. From the campus art museum, to a farmer’s market, to a microbrewery, and off to dinner and a concert.

Kerrytown

Just a few blocks north from the heart of downtown is the historic neighborhood known as Kerrytown. A somewhat sketchy area in the 1960s, it was one of the first really successful redevelopment projects in the U.S. It is here you find Ann Arbor’s farmers’ market which has been going strong over 92 years now. Get the best scone you’ll ever have and sip one of nearly 200 varieties of tea at TeaHaus before hitting the market.

Zingerman's Deli

Over 150 vendors table up on Wednesdays and Saturdays under a covered walkway, and organizers have focused on diversity for consumers; they analyzed what was missing from the mix and actively pursued sellers who could fill the voids. So whether you want fresh herbs, eggs, pickles, homemade soap, baked goods, heirloom veggies, grass-fed beef, fresh cheese, donuts, or maple syrup – they’ve got you covered. I’ve seen bigger markets, but the breadth of items would challenge any of them. And unlike most, this one stays open – and outside – during winter.

Zingermanville

Just a block away is another Ann Arbor institution. You can’t come to this town and not experience Zingerman’s. Is it a deli? A creamery? Bakery? A barbecue joint? Yes, all of the above. Zingerman’s is as much an attitude as it is a place – rather several places – on the map. There is no Zingerman. The name is the creation of U of Michigan grads Paul Saginaw and Ari Weinzweig who started with a deli in 1982, and have since been adding to a list of food-related businesses, all of them with their own proprietors who have become partners of what I’d call the Zingerman’s Movement.

Inside the deli – racks of fresh bread behind us, a world of cheese lined up before us under the dangling cured hams – my travel companions and I resembled those goats you see at a petting zoo. We just congregated at the deli counter, following the hands of the clerks as they reached out with abundant samples. They have more varieties than you’ve heard of, and they encourage you to explore. They do gift boxes by mail. I left with a “meat cone,” a cup of freshly sliced charcuterie curled up like an ice cream cone with a few pickles dropped in the center.

James Beard Foundation Best Chef winner Alex Young at Zingerman's Roadhouse

Next I hit Zingerman’s Next Door (you can guess its proximity to the deli) for coffee and sinful desserts. But I’m only scratching the surface. Scattered about the city are also a candy manufacturing company, a bakehouse, coffee roaster, and a creamery where you can sign up for a one-session cheesemaking activity.

One particular Zingerman establishment got some extra notoriety in 2011. Where might you expect the top chef of the Great Lakes to be working culinary magic? Fancy digs in a big city? Chicago, maybe? Nope. Ann Arbor elbows out the City of Big Shoulders, thanks to Alex Young at Zingerman’s Roadhouse, who recently took the James Beard Foundation Best Chef honors for the Great Lakes. He’s raising his own meat. Seriously. Outside is an aluminum camper-trailer functioning as a drive-up window, and out back is an enormous smoker, the producer of some really fine Southern-style barbecue.

Burn Off Those Calories

Once you’ve fed the body, feed the soul. Get grungy and funky at The Blind Pig.  It’s not going to win any interior design awards, but this live music venue packs ‘em in and offers up a soul night like no other. It’s fun to see multi-generations digging on the timeless tunes of Stax and Motown.

Just another couple blocks and you are at The Ark, a performance venue that was founded by four churches as a sort of coffeehouse/safe social gathering spot in 1965. The home of the annual Ann Arbor Folk Festival, and now in its third home over the years, this 400-seat hall is the oldest non-profit acoustic club in North America and brings a variety of artists and styles – some pretty big names – in for intimate shows. Shaun Colvin took the stage while I was there and she could have unplugged completely and I’d still have heard her in the back row.

There’s Ann Arbor Comedy Showcase if you want a good laugh. The autographed photos in the hall are a veritable who’s who of comedians. Just 22 minutes west of Ann Arbor is Chelsea, home of Michigan-native Jeff Daniels’ fabulous Purple Rose Theatre.

Along with the University’s art museum, you can visit the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Library or the Ypsilanti Automotive Heritage Museum. The Corvair, the Caprice and the last model of the GTO were made in Ypsilanti, 12 miles out of Ann Arbor. The town was also the home to auto designer Preston Tucker and the last Hudson dealership.

So, OK, you got me – it’s not just all about food and drink in Ann Arbor. But it certainly could be. When in Ann Arbor, eat as the Ann Arborians do – very well.

Where to Stay

While there is no shortage of reasonable hotels (though be wary of big football weekends at U of M) of the trusted brand variety, there is one particularly unique experience that architecture fans should check out. Frank Lloyd Wright’s Palmer House, a three-bedroom home, is open for guests.

Getting There

Getting to Ann Arbor is a snap. Fly into Detroit and it’s a fifteen-minute drive west on I-94.

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